


Symphony in 5

by omi



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-08 14:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omi/pseuds/omi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Au Klaine where Kurt is pulled into another world, Glee, where singing is pure magic. A world full of elves, trolls, dragons and a short brown haired boy named Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Glee. This is an AU where New Directions never existed on Earth. Reviews are welcome.

_Introduction: Main article:Introduction (music)_

_The introduction is a unique section that comes at the beginning of the piece._

Chapter One

Kurt saw a blur of red and white before a wave of purple ice slapped him in the face. Just enough time to close his locker.

"Good morning fag!" A voice sneered and others joined in laughing.

Tears rushed to his eyes, clearing out the syrup that had seeped in. Using his one hand Kurt stared to scrap what he could off of his face, flicking it all on the floor. Patting his bag with the other, he was relieved to find that his messenger bag had escaped the slushing. This time.

Kurt pulled a small face towel out and wiped his face. His nose scrunched up, it had to be grape today. Looking down, he saw that his pants had been spared also. Good.

The bell for class rang.

Breath shaky, Kurt re-opened his locker. Hanging his bag on the door he pulled off his sweater careful not to get slush on his pants.

At least it hadn't gone through to my undershirt, he thought. He balled his sweater up and put it into the plastic bag he kept in his locker for these occasions. Pulling his extra sweater out of the locker, Kurt grabbed his bag and made for the bathroom to clean up.

"Hey, why aren't you in class?"

Kurt turned around to see one of the many teachers whose name he didn't' know. "I need to get cleaned up."

"You shouldn't have been so careless," The teacher pulled a slip from his pocket, "Name?"

Kurt clenched his fists, "Kurt Hummel."

"You'll have detention Mr. Hummel, now get to class, you can clean up afterwards."

Trembling, Kurt took the slip and turned to go to class.

Useless.

Kurt turned the corner and went into the boy's bathroom. He already had detention, so who cared if he got another. He wasn't going to class while the sugary mess seeped into his pores.

His hands closed on the porcelain sink as Kurt leaned forward to peer at the mirror. Things had been different; he used to be able to wear the clothing he loved. Last year, something had changed. The slushes became more frequent and random. He wasn't about to keep spending money on clothes that inevitably were going to be ruined. So he started cutting back what he wore to school. Not a name brand in sight. Nothing that couldn't be thrown into a washing machine. And nothing white. Ever.

At least he was able to save money for when he got out of Ohio. Less than a year from now.

Taking his emergency face kit out of his messenger bag, Kurt got to work.

Ten minutes later, He was packing up. No real use going to class, he thought, fiddling with the clasp on his bag. The library was close enough for him to go hide out in until second period.

Kurt turned and made one step towards the door, when it swung open and Kurt's stomach dropped to his knees. David Karofsky, his main tormentor stood in the doorway.

Karofsky stepped forward, letting the door swing shut behind him, cutting off Kurt's exit. "Well well, this is unexpected. Hello Princess!"

Mouth dry, Kurt held his head up, stepped to the side and motioned for Karofsky to move forward.

Karofsky moved forward with the lumbering grace of a linebacker...that is none at all, backing Kurt up into the sinks. "I think it's high time we had some alone time." His hand came up and a sausage finger traced a trail down Kurt's face.

Eyes wide, his breath stuck in throat, Kurt pushed against the heavier boy to no avail. Karofsky just pressed closer, his bulk pushed up against Kurt's

"Let me go you oaf!"

A glint of something appeared in Karofsky's eyes before he grabbed a hold of Kurt's head. Kurt tried to fight him off, but couldn't.

And then he started screaming inside his head. Karofsky was kissing him. His mouth hurt from the force of the bruising kiss. Kurt started to struggle, move any part of his body.

It only seemed to make Karofsky moan in some sort of sick pleasure.

There was a crack of noise from out in the hallways that had Karofsky backing away just enough for Kurt to run out of the bathroom.

The hallways became a blur as he flew down them, out the doors and straight to his car. Nowhere was safe in that damn school. Locked in his car, Kurt finally let the tears come.

He skipped school for the first time in his life. Not the last, he thought.

Telling his dad that he was sent home for having a headache, which ironically did develop after the incident, Kurt lay in bed for most of the day. Dreaming of the day when he could leave. New York, all the way. He'd be a star on Broadway. Shelby, his voice coach for the past 3 years, said that he was nearing the end of what she could teach him. She said that he still had issues with negative tension inhibiting his abilities, but she said that would disappear with time. And with a location change, Kurt thought. Being gay in Ohio was extremely stressful.

Though his headache worsened, Kurt grabbed a travel mug and filled it with chamomile and honey tea. It would soothe his voice after the crying this morning. He may have missed school, but he wouldn't miss his vocal lessons.

Kurt parked and then made his way into the school that Shelby taught at. Not for the first time Kurt wished they had a glee club at McKinley.

There coming down the hallway bouncing towards him was Rachel, I'm a star, Berry. They went to the same school, but only really had any interaction when they met up with Shelby.

"Kurt Hummel. Have you received your NYADA letter yet?" Rachel asked.

"No Rachel, not as yet. You?" He could be polite. Because despite his burning desire to well...burn the offending outfit that Rachel wore, she was one of the more civilized members of his graduating class. That and he'd probably run into her in New York.

"No. Well good luck. You're only slightly behind me where talent is concerned; however I do concede that you belong at NYADA."

Kurt didn't even hide the roll of his eyes from her, "Good luck also Rachel, and good night. I've got lessons." He continued down the hallway.

Shelby practically threw him out of lessons that night. The negativity he carried all but closed up his throat. She couldn't work around it and suggested that he go home, do some yoga and try to relax. They'd pick up the lesson tomorrow instead.

Lucky that he didn't entirely waste a rather expensive class, Kurt tried to cheer himself up on the ride home.

Baking. That was the answer. He'd made some brownies for dessert. And a fat free lasagna. Already feeling a bit perkier he pulled into the local grocery store to pick up a few ingredients.

Grabbing a hand basket he set off. Grabbing low fat ricotta cheese, cocoa and a diet coke for himself had him heading towards the front of the store. Kurt was packing his things when a voice broke into his stream of conscience.

"Hey there Hummel. Going to do a little baking tonight?"

It was an innocent question, from a terrifying source. There standing next to him, having already finished his transaction was Karofsky.

He slapped Kurt on the back and gripped his shoulder. Not enough for anyone to be suspicious, but enough that Kurt couldn't cause a scene. "Come on, hurry up buddy."

Kurt stiffly let Karofsky guide him out of the store, head pounding and heart racing, "Let me go."

"I just want to have a little talk to you about...earlier," Karofsky said. "We didn't get to finish our discussion."

Kurt started to walk faster, towards the navigator, "There's nothing to talk about. Nothing happened."

"That's right fag, nothing happened. And no one is going to know about. If I find out you say anything, I'll kill you."

Kurt stopped next to his car, shivering from the chill still in the air and turned to face his tormentor, "Tell anyone? As if I would want anyone to know how your meaty paws were all over me."

Karofsky took a step closer, "You loved it fag. Bet it was the highlight of your sad little life."

Kurt fished into his bag for his keys. "No in fact, it wasn't. You tasted like pizza, there was no technique and it was just plain awful. I pity the girl you date. Not only do you not want her, you can't even make it half decent."

Karofsky's fist caught him upside the head, all Kurt felt was an explosion of pain. He hadn't even seen it coming. His head rang and spun at the same time. The second fist caught him in the nose; he heard the crunch of it breaking. The motioned sent him crashing back into his navigator. The alarm blissfully decided to go off as he slide down its side. He caught a boot to the chest before Karofsky walked off, leaving him there.

The world spun around him like oil mixing with water on the floor of his father's shop. Breathing was difficult; Kurt couldn't even catch his breath to start crying out for help. Dizzily he tried to stand. Something was wrong with his hearing; the alarm slipped into rhythm with whatever crazy a cappella song that was blaring over the loudspeakers at that moment.

Pressing up from the ground Kurt tried to lift himself up again, his grocery bag twisted in one hand. He tried to shake it off, but the race of pain that shot up his arm stopped him. Kurt slipped back down on the ground, head against his car.

Eyes closed to stop the spinning; he drew a labored breath and cried out, hoping that someone would hear him.

The loudspeaker seemed to get louder.

Kurt tried crying out again. What was the point of being here if all it brought was pain. I want out! He tried to rise one more time, but the ground seemed to melt away beneath him and he passed out as he fell down.

* * *

The fall of water on stone made Blaine pause. He loved rainy days. Though lately they'd been too far and few between for him to properly enjoy. The weather made him want to curl up in front of the fire with a good book and a cup of cha. Things were different now. He took a final deep breath before continuing on his way.

He passed a hand down his front, smoothing his dark blue robes before pushing open the double doors into the practice auditorium. Boys, almost men, from all four races loitered around in the matching uniforms that showed their status as students. An example was set here that the world should follow.

He made his way to two heads that were almost permanently together. Never mind what they were actually discussing. The site of their heads that close with a file in hand was enough to give anyone a pause. As Blaine got closer he could hear snippets of the conversation.

"If we move Jeff's note here..."

"And then Nick will hole here..."

Satisfied that they were only sufficiently distracted with working on the score, Blaine felt confident enough to try and sneak up and slap them on their backs.

"And then... yes, Blaine won't do that or else...then we can add a note here." Wes continued to scribble on the score as David turned to Blaine's direction with a smile.

"Hello Blaine. Thought you knew better by now," David asked.

"Never hurts to make sure you're on your toes." Blaine quipped back. "Are we almost ready?"

"Just making some last minute changes and then we can give it a try," Wes spoke up. "Have a seat; I'll let you know when we're ready to start." He twirled the gavel that was in his other hand.

Blaine eyed the gavel with trepidation. One of these days Wes was going to lose that thing and Blaine was sure he'd fall apart.

Blaine turned and took a seat while looking at the open area. Symbols had been set up ahead of time, with just waiting for the boys to take their place on the stone steps that were worn with age and tradition. Dread gripped him. Blaine clenched his hand and brushed the feeling off. He couldn't afford to give in to hysterics now. This would be their first big work since their teacher had perished over a month ago.

Spellmaster Jaminson hadn't been the best teacher, but he had been one of the most powerful teachers that the school had had in years. He was gone now and they'd been left to their own devices.

Wes's gavel echoed throughout the hall. Blaine straightened his spine and shoulders as he stood and with practiced ease slide onto the working stones along with the other, now silent boys.

"Now we're going to do a quick run through with the changes we've just talked to you about." Wes started as David closed the protective border of the platform.

Blaine watched as David hummed the final notes to the song that would enclose the boys and their workings from the rest of the school and the gold flash that came as a result.

"Warbler Thad if you would."

The black haired boy took his place at the bottom tier and started the boys in their vocal warm ups.

Blaine loved the play on colors that the sterile scales produced. Magic in the world of Glee was so beautiful, visually and audibly. And deadly. Blaine looked at the people he was surrounded by. Each of them was alive while others weren't. Untrained voices could kill. Not only themselves, but others. They were some of the lucky ones, to have almost made it to adulthood...mostly intact. They still had years to go if they wanted to achieve status as spellmaster though.

Thad closed his fist, signaling the end to the warm ups.

"Right, let's do this. If we do this right, we should bring some sunshine to the weekend. Simple," David said, motioning for Thad to continue.

Thad traced the opening for all music scores in the air and the boys inhaled in unison to sing the introduction chorus.

Dave held the focus crystal in his hands and they all watched as the colors seem to leap from it. The a cappella voices wove colors of light the bounced off the protective edge forming a dome of light around them.

The song was a short one, but Blaine felt his energy start to sap the moment they hit the second line. Lines of blue and green started to shoot into the air above them, into a vortex of some sorts. What should have been a simple working was taking a toll out of all the boys. He looked to his left and saw Nick and Jeff, both with determined looks on their faces. They'd all worked too hard to let it fail now.

As they started the final page of the score, a cold breeze picked up where none should have been. Blaine looked to Dave and Wes, they motioned for the group to continue, there were only a few notes left.

On the last note, a pure tone broke through the score, soaring up all the male voices. It was a note held in pure anguish. David released his grip on the dome that had become a golden net and the mysterious wind that had come out of nowhere pushed the boys back and a figure fell from the vortex of the next crashing down, landing on Blaine and several of the boys.

Wes looked up from the ground; nose bloody from receiving a heavy boot to the face as the body fell.

Blaine, having caught the main part of the body lay on the ground. He groaned in pain. He could feel the person who landed on him breath. "It's alive!"

Quickly Blaine turned the body over to see that it was actually a he, covered in blood and bruises. "Someone go for help, he's injured and I don't know if it's our fault or if he was like this before."

David sprang up and directed an uninjured boy to run for help.

"We shouldn't have tried this without supervision," Thad began.

Wes glared, "This really isn't the time for discussion."

"Look at what we've done!"

David laid a hand on Thad, "Thad, now isn't the time. I agree this shouldn't have happened, but it has and now we need to figure out why."

Blaine ignored the talking that was going on around him, cradling the broken boy in his arms. Holding a hand to what appeared to be a broken nose, he sang a spell to straighten and correct it. That was one spell he knew by heart.

As the cartilage snapped into place, the boy in his arms moaned and Blaine found himself staring into impossible green-blue eyes.


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Au Klaine where Kurt is pulled into another world, Glee, where singing is pure magic. A world full of elves, trolls, dragons and a short brown haired boy named Blaine. WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note. I do not own Glee. This is an AU where New Directions never existed on Earth. Reviews are welcome. I currently do not have a beta, although I do try my best.

The harbor crawled with activity as a sandy haired man stood watching it on a platform that overhung part of the cliff that partially enclosed the naturally made harbor. Wooden platforms were scattered all along the cliffs. Some full of people who'd come to witness today's raisings.

Raw materials lay littering every empty spot in sight. By the calculations La'Fir was given, he would be raising 3 more ships today. Next to them lay carts for the fish they'd harvest today.

A bell cut across the silence of the harbor. Rough hands prodded him forward towards the music stand that was placed at the edge. Creaks were heard as hands grasped their instruments.

A second bell pealed, indicating readiness. Tapping his tuning fork against the edge of the music stand, La'Fir drew a breath and matched the zone, projecting his voice across the harbor for all to hear and tune their instruments too.

When his breath ran out, he turned back towards his patrons. Larger than men, these half giants that most thought gone with history stood there. Skin of all colors, rough, pierced and armored, these half giants had plucked him from his home. Now he was tied to them, their accomplishments were his. Their life-force intertwined with theirs. It was to his benefit that they succeed in whatever endeavors that entered their whim.

A chocolaty svelte shaped leg pushed through the wall of guards that accompanied him.

"Your majesty." La'Fir dropped his knees in supplication.

Her red gown clung to her, damp from the ocean spray. Gold adorned her, from the tips of her toes to the short tresses on her head. "Make me proud today my song master. I know this is a trial today, but once we are through, we will dine in your honor tonight. Soon my fleet will be ready to cross these waters and take the lands across the sea." Roz, Queen of the Half-Giants, who had sprung from the volcanic east and laid waste as they moved, amassing a kingdom that overran its inhabitants with no mercy stood before him.

"I know you are tired La'Fir. Let me tell you about tired. I was tired when I had to fight as a child to get the last scraps of bread at the table. When we were starving for food. I was so hungry that I could have gladly bitten off my mother's finger for more meat. When I was growing up they said that we weren't real. That the giants had all disappeared. But I had a DREAM!" Roz's voice raised and was carried by the cliffs to her people's ears. "That one day giants would take their rightful place as the fifth race once again. And that I would lead them to the Promised Land. And we would slake our thirst in the rivers of this world. We would quell the rumble of our stomachs on the bones of enemies. Force the four great races to take us into consideration in a way they can't ignore!"

Battle cries rang up, filling the harbor with an almost deafening roar.

"Your work here is almost finished Spellmaster. I will say this only once. Make any mistakes right now and I won't only kill you. I will make you watch as we devour your family, before we start on your body from the bottom up. Slowly." Roz's hand rose to caressed La'Fir's check. "Don't make me repeat myself again. Now finish your work." The Queen took a step back and gestured for La'Fir to begin.

He nodded to the bell ringer to mark the signal to begin. With the clang, he heard the movement of over a hundred musicians raise their instruments. Inhaling air like a pumping of a bellows his voice rang out in a pure tone, signaling the start to the musicians. Silent after that, he let the music build, waiting for his introduction.

The water in the harbor began to ripple with his first word. Slowly it began to retreat; to pull back revealed the sandy rock bottom of the harbor floor. Finally the water stood still, pushed back by the song. It hung in the air as if situated behind a giant glass window.

Below where the harbor used to lay, the sea life flipped and flopped on the now damp land, massive shipbuilding frames were wet from being submerged. The music swelled as Le'Fir started to direct sea life to the large containers that were placed there for that purpose. Waste not was a motto that was sometimes taken to the extreme by the half-giants. La'Fir didn't doubt for a moment that Queen Roz hadn't bitten the fingers off her mother. With a twist in the music, the sea life separated fish to one side and shellfish to the other. Workers lined the carts, moving them along when they were full.

Le'Fir raised his voice and began to sing the wood into place on the frames.

Kurt opened his eyes and found himself staring up into a pair of warm hazel ones. Then panic set in as a burning pain flared up from his abdomen. He swallowed and tasted blood, but there was no pain from the broken nose he was sure he had. Head throbbing, Kurt tried to sit up. Though warmth seeped from the curly haired boy who was cradling him Kurt didn't' know him and he refused to be seen further as weak.

"Just lay still, help is on its way," the boy said. Kurt frowned at the strange accent he talked with. Trying to push up with his elbow, he felt pain shoot up from his wrist and abdomen. He gave up and just tried to take shallow breaths that didn't hurt.

Then he noticed his surroundings. Face scrunched up in confusion as he took into the dark wood paneling on the walls, the heavy thick drapes that hung from gold wrought rods and the stone flooring. Where was he? Kurt opened his mouth to ask, but nothing came out but a pitiful sounding crock.

That's what broke him. Tears welled up and overflowed. Kurt tried to curl up, but the pain stopped him from moving again. He pushed his face into the spicy smelling robes of the boy who held him and sobbed. Karofsky had finally taken everything from him. Beauty be damned, but his voice! That was his ticket out of this god forsaken town.

Arms came up around him and enclosed around him.

Kurt was still crying when hands tried to move him. Shaking, he clung to the hard form of the boy who'd been trying to comfort him. Voices started to rise in confusion.

"bum bum bummm." Three male voices broke through and a wave of blue light spread like a blanket over the room, silencing and calming everyone in it.

It was like being wrapped up in a warm summer hug. Kurt pulled back, wet from crying to look in amazement at the boys that had just sung a Capella.

"Thank you gentlemen," said a short man in what Kurt could only describe as Renaissance Faire garb. Were those jewels real?

"No problem Lord Anderson," said the Asian boy of the three.

Where was he? Kurt wondered.

"Now I'd like an explanation of what's going on. Blaine?" Lord Anderson looked in Kurt's direction.

"Somehow the songspell we sang went...wrong," the boy holding him, Blaine started. "I don't know where he came from, or if we hurt him by pulling him here.

Pulled him here? Spellsong! Kurt's mind was racing with ideas and impossibilities of what that could mean.

Kurt was started out of his thoughts when Blaine started to shake him. He raised his eyebrow in question.

"I said, what's your name?"

Kurt looked around at the expectant faces. Desperately trying to hold his lower lip from quivering he reached up with his good hand and patted at his throat.

"Oh my..."Blaine started, "His throat is bruised. I don't think he can talk right now. Might it not be better if we get him into the infirmary instead of questioning him?"

Lord Anderson motioned to two men in white next to Kurt that he hadn't noticed and they began to hum in unison. Kurt rose from Blaine and floated to a stretcher, his messenger bag hanging off him. As he was being taken out of the room, he heard Lord Anderson's voice start to rise as he began yelling.

Maybe he'd get a decent pair of red sequined pumps out of all of this.

The journey to the infirmary wasn't long, but it was interesting. Kurt was in what looked like a cross between a castle and a very large manor home. Down a corridor that led outside and then back into a large side door. Kurt's eyes widened at the change in weather. Winter had just started back home, but here it seemed like spring, with a hint of a breeze.

So that crosses Kansas off my list, he thought.

The infirmary was something out of Harry Potter. Rows of beds, large windows and people in robes, though these were all white.

Which was ridiculous if you think about it. White clothing only stains; the laundry room must be over run here. Kurt looked down and to the side. He hoped that his clothes weren't too ruined...or maybe completely ruined. Imagine the fashion he might be able to get away with here.

Finally situated on a bed, a doe eyed redhead shuffled to his bedside, "Healer Taibor will be with you in a minute, so don't worry. My name is Emma and I promise I'll help you get through all of this."

A balding man, who Kurt assumed was the doctor came over and started pressing down on various parts of his body while muttering. "Broken ribs definitely." His hand traced down Kurt's jaw line, "possibly fractured jaw.

Kurt raised his wrist to Taibor.

He gently moved the wrist around, "Looks like a sprain." He looked up to Emma with Kurt's hand still in his, "We'll need a pianist for this one"

"Don't worry yourself young man. We'll get most of these little problems soothed away in no time. The only problem you're going to have is that I can't risk healing that throat of yours. While I can urge the blood in your system to thin and move along so that the bruising goes down, I dare not go deeper for fear of damaging the vocal cords. Tricky part of the body. Give me a broken bone or a surgery any day!"

Kurt just nodded in agreement with the man. There was little he could do until he was healed.

"Well Taibor, how is going to be?" Lord Anderson's voice boomed from the doorway.

"Ah, My Lord. I will be able to treat most of the injuries our young friend here has. Except for the damage to the throat, that is going to have to mostly heal on its own."

"Keep me apprised of his status. Give him a room with the other boys. Might as well enroll him in the schooling here until we can figure out what's to be done with him." With that, Lord Anderson walked out.

"Alright. Let's get you prepped!" Taibor said as he reached for Kurt's shirt. "These are all going to have to come off my young friend."

Kurt shrank back from Taibor, causing the man to pause.

"There's nothing to it, they have to come off to heal you. Shy one are you?"

Kurt nodded.

"Fair enough, we'll get some sheets up. Jackie, "he called, his voice rising, "Get the privacy screens in place." Turning back to Kurt, "I'll start taking off the basics then?"

With another nod, he was at Kurt's feet, unlacing his boots.

"I've never seen the likes of your footwear before. They look comfortable and expensive. I always say you can tell the manner of a man by his footwear."

Kurt lost himself in the hustle and bustle of the screens going up and then Emma and Healer Taibor taking the rest of his clothes off. He didn't miss the hiss or the looks that they exchanged when they saw the damage under the clothes. Taibor got him to move slightly to take a peek at his back. Kurt let the tears fall as other people saw for the first time the extent of the damage that his body had put up with for years.

Ashamed, Kurt attempted to curl in on himself, but was stopped by Emma's small hand patting nervously on his shoulder.

"Don't you'll only hurt yourself worse. Let us take care of you right now."

Kurt closed his eyes. He listened to people shuffling around and then the music struck and he drifted off to sleep with a final thought, I just want the pain to stop.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Au Klaine where Kurt is pulled into another world, Glee, where singing is pure magic. A world full of elves, trolls, dragons and a short brown haired boy named Blaine. WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note. I do not own Glee. This is an AU where New Directions never existed on Earth. Reviews are welcome. This is unbeta'd outside of F7.

Blaine watched as Kurt was carried out of the room. The door had barely closed before his father started.

"What in the seven octaves did you boys do?" His voice bounced off the walls, amplifying it.

"We were only trying out a song that was supposed to bring up sunshine this weekend," Wes began.

Red crept up Lord Anderson's neck and Blaine knew they were in for it.

"Without any director, none of you boys is to do anything other than practice simple everyday cleaning spells for the next three weeks. I don't know how you managed to transport that boy from," his arms waved around in the air, "who knows where, but the damage is done. Now we have to figure out how to deal with him. He will be your responsibility. Blaine, I'm placing you particularly in charge."

He leveled the look at him. Blaine knew there would be more than just directing the boy in the school's day to day life.

"We can't have this happening again gentlemen. There is an unofficial war going on. Until such time as further direction can be found, you boys need to not try larger songs. I don't want any of you to die. It could be the tipping point into full out war. I don't need to remind you that Dalton stands in the center and as representatives of all races, you boys must send an example."

Blaine knew what the others didn't. Some of them weren't there to set an example, but to make sure that the example was followed. Children from the Three Races went to Dalton. Elves, Humans and Trolls, Dragons and Giants had died out years ago. Political hostages. His father was ruthless in that aspect. He'd do whatever it took to see that people fell in line. And until the council could figure out who exactly should sit on the golden throne, there would be distention between everyone living.

"Blaine, follow me, we have to talk." Lord Anderson spun to walk out of the room, not waiting to see his directions followed.

"We'll try and figure this out," Blaine said to Wes before following his father.

A few steps later he caught up to him in the hallway. His father led him out towards the wet courtyard. It was beautiful after the rain.

Arms crossed beneath his robes, he waited until they were out of hearing of the guards who stopped at the entrance to the courtyard, "Your brother is on his way home."

"Cooper!" Blaine turned to his father, "He's coming home! Is the fighting over?"

"He's injured Blaine. The healers can't make him better and right now, they thought the best thing to do would be to bring him home. We don't know the exact specifics of his, "the old man's eyes shut, brows furrowing, "injuries, but they're severe."

"But he'll be alright won't he father?" Blaine asked anxiously. This was Cooper, his older brother who loved to torment him, the beloved Spellmaster who they'd proudly sent off to do his part in the war efforts. The only one that could go to toe to toe with his father and survive.

Kurt opened his mouth to talk before he realized that still couldn't. Eyes wide as took a quiet moment to catalog his aches and pains. There were almost none. He shifted his ankle, no pain. Kurt clenched his stomach and still there was no pain. He worked his jaw open and closed and again still there was no pain. For the first time in months, the only real pain he had was just a sore throat.

Looking around the infirmary Kurt noticed that he wasn't alone. Emma was bent over writing on a desk that split the beds up from what looked like the storage and medicine portion of the room. Slow, just in case not everything was healed, he sat up in the bed.

The shifting of sheets seemed to grab Emma's attention. "Hello there sleepy. How are you feeling?" She got up and started towards him.

Kurt put a hand on his throat, and then pulled his facial muscles downwards in the largest frown he could make, without straining his throat.

"Of course. Let me get you something for that," Emma went to other side of the room and started fiddling with the glass there.

Kurt pulled his knees up to his chest. He didn't really want to think about what was happening. What he really wanted to do was to go to sleep and be back home with his dad, just in time to get up and argue about what to have for breakfast.

"Here you go dear." Emma pressed a wooden mug into his hands. "Drink it all. I'm having some food brought up for you promptly. All soft foods that shouldn't burden your throat."

The heavy wooden door of the infirmary opened, revealing Lord Anderson and his son Blaine in tow. "Ah good you are awake. Still unable to speak?"

Slowly he nodded in answer to the question, while wondering just how long he'd been asleep. Kurt noted that Lord Anderson had changed his clothes but Blaine was still wearing the same thing as when he first arrived, so he was still uncertain as to how long he'd been here.

"While we don't quite understand how you arrived here," he side glanced at Blaine, "I would like to do you the honor of offering this up as your residence for as long as you find yourself with us. Blaine here will take you to your rooms when you are allowed and show you around. I'm sure you have many questions and Blaine will be of service to answer them. If you need anything important, you may send a letter and I will try to answer it promptly."

Kurt didn't move. He wasn't sure what to do or what would be considered polite in this situation. Kurt leaned, offering a small bow.

Apparently that was all Lord Anderson needed, as he left abruptly leaving Blaine in his wake.

"Blaine, he's fine to walk around." Emma said. "Please take him to get outfitted and then get him back here for a small luncheon."

Kurt pushed back the blankets. He fingered a hole in the shirt he'd been wearing. It hadn't been any of his good clothes, but honesty. They were still HIS clothes. Holding his head up he gracefully stood and walked towards Blaine.

He was taller than the curly dark haired boy. He folded his hands together and looked at Blaine out of the corner of his eye.

Blaine just seemed to stare at him.

Kurt raised an eyebrow and held his hand towards the door.

With a small jump, a sheepish smile came over Blaine's face. "Sorry, my thoughts ran away. Let's take you to the garb room." They started off down a corridor.

"We should really try to figure out a way to speak. Can you write?" Blaine asked.

Kurt titled his head, his eyes squinting and he smiled a bit broader.

"Right...you can't answer. Stupid!" Blaine raised his hand and smacked himself lightly on the head.

Kurt couldn't stop his body from flinching and automatically shied away. His heart beat loudly in his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blaine raise his hand again. His heart started to beat even more and he pressed himself against the cold stones of the hallway, trying to make himself the smallest target possible. His vision narrowed as he saw Blaine getting closer.

He cried out noiselessly and waited for the beating to start. His vision clouded over until it all went black.

He came too curled up against the wall, with Blaine sitting on the ground staring worriedly at him a few feet away.

"...alright. You'll be fine. Just take a deep breath," Blaine's voice was low and hesitant.

Kurt blinked a few times and started to uncurl his body, using the wall to push himself until he was standing.

"Are you back with me?" Asked Blaine, still sitting on the floor.

Kurt nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. He couldn't stop himself from crying. He rubbed at his face in an attempt to hide. He was just a freak.

Slowly Blaine got to his feet. "Don't worry. You've been through a lot. Please don't cry. You're too beautiful to start crying."

Kurt felt something warm on his forearm until slowly, he realized, he was pulled into an embrace. He pushed back, trying to escape. He didn't want to appear this weak!

But the arms tightened and he was just too exhausted to continue. He slumped into Blaine, accepting the comfort from the strange boy.

It took awhile, but Kurt was able to stop crying and pulled back in the circle of Blaine's arms.

Furrowed eyebrows with Hazel eyes stared up at him, "let's go get those clothes."

Kurt ducked his head once. They started walked again with Blaine's arm a warm presence around Kurt's waist.

The garment room perked Kurt's spirits up a bit.

"Go ahead and pick out a few outfits. You'll probably start attending classes soon, so I'll grab some of the robes for you while you pick your clothing." Blaine went to the back of the large room where Kurt could see the robes were kept.

Then he dived right in. Everything looked like it came right out of a mix between eras. There were men's Victorian pants right next to tight leggings and puffy pirate type of pant. Kurt helped himself to 3 pairs of pants, 2 leggings and 1 of the puffy pants. They probably wouldn't look right with his pear shaped hips, but he might need something for working out in. Several button down shirts, a few longer than normal vests and some socks later, Kurt turned to find Blaine waiting patiently with the robes in his hands.

The only thing he couldn't find were undergarments, but he'd have to make due with what he had until he could request them. Kurt motioned with his arms towards the door.

"Alright, follow me," Blaine said as he took some of the clothes in Kurt's hands.

Kurt followed mindlessly. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to go home, but home hadn't been safe for a long time. They walked down up and up stairs, through several corridors, passing by people until they came to a quiet hallway filled with doors.

"This is your room," Blaine said as he opened it. It reminded Kurt of the small dorm rooms you'd see in the movies. But the beds were a bit bigger. It had a wardrobe and a window...and that was about it.

Blaine laid the robes on the bed, "Let's go back to the infirmary and get you some food."

So Kurt followed. He wondered if this was going to become a habit. Deeper into the rabbit hole he went.

"I bet you have a lot of questions."

Finally! Maybe he'd get some answers, Kurt thought.

"I'm sorry, but I don't really have any answers for you. We really don't know how our song brought you here, or even where you're from or how to get you home."

Kurt tuned out the rest of what Blaine was saying as he stared along the hallway. An ache started in his head and at that moment his body felt heavy and weary.

"Hey, Hey!"

Blaine's shouting brought him out of the stupor.

"You're not even paying attention me are you?" Blaine asked, his big fuzzy eyebrows wrinkling.

Kurt shook his head side to side.

Blaine slowly brought his hand up so Kurt could see the movement and patted him on the shoulder. "It'll be fine. We'll figure it out. Let's go get you something to eat.

Food was there and still hot when they got back. Kurt sat on his bed and pulled the small serving table closer to eat. He brought a spoonful of the brown stew to his mouth. His eyebrows went up and he gave the stew an approving look. It was way better than it looks, very savory.

"So I was thinking of what to call you!" Blaine spoke up.

Kurt tilted his head and pushed the table away from him. He walked over to where Emma had been writing and saw that there was a glass pencil or pen of sorts sitting there. Grabbing a piece of yellowish paper he wrote: My name is Kurt.

Kurt tried not to sigh as he looked around the infirmary. Why and how did their "song" bring him here if they couldn't figure out how to give him a pen and paper to write on?

"Madame Sylvester you called?" Two girls sauntered into antichambers high above the ground, the dark one who spoke, the human playmate of the blond elf by her side.

"Yes. Jugs the jester and her faithful monkey, I have a job for you. There's been some kind of disturbance with the rhythms and the source points to that spineless chicken coop. I want you two to go and find out what it is and how was can use it to our advantage."

"How are we suppose to do that? We can't just walk in?"

The blond turned excitedly, "We could dance, I've been practicing that waltz we did the other night!"

"Brittany. Focus." Madame Sylvester held a scroll out.

Santana asked, "What are these?"

"You've been enrolled in school there. I hope you can sing." She sat back in her chair and grabbed her goblet of juice.

Santana smiled, her eyes flashing with humor and hint of danger, "Don't worry. We'll get it done."


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Au Klaine where Kurt is pulled into another world, Glee, where singing is pure magic. A world full of elves, trolls, dragons and a short brown haired boy named Blaine. WIP

Kurt knew he wasn't in Ohio, probably not even on Earth. Unless he went back in time, but that really didn't make any sense either. Kurt rubbed his eyes harder, as if he could make the cheery sunshine that streamed into them go away.

He didn't know what to do with the hurt inside him. He couldn't escape the fact that he was in a whole different world and yet, seemingly safer, for now, than his own. Wasn't this what he wished for? To leave all his problems behind?

But not his dad. Never that. Even with all his dreams of New York and making it big, they'd included his father in every step of the way. Kurt thought he'd probably even buy some house for Burt in New York, somewhere he could retire and live comfortably. Close to Kurt.

To be given his wish and yet, be torn away from his family. It hurt.

Kurt jumped at the knock on his door.

He sucked in a breath and threw off his covers. People. Shaking off his melancholy he got out of bed.

He wouldn't let them see him weaker than they'd already had. Especially Blaine.

Who was standing in his doorway.

"Kurt! Good Morning," Blaine said.

Writing was different here. It had more of a Germanic influence and undertone. Whatever power that had pulled him here and had adjusted his understanding of speech had not taken writing into account. It'd taken them about 20 minutes to get Blaine to say Kurt last night.

There were other differences that were becoming clearer to Kurt now that he'd had some time to process. The air here was cleaner than back home, almost sweet smelling. The sun felt different on his skin. It was if he stood on the beach during a hot summer's day, but instead of being burnt to a crisp after a short time, it felt as though the energy moved within him. Healing him. Making him stronger somehow.

He turned his attentions back to Blaine. Kurt moved sideways- inviting Blaine into his room.

"I thought we'd try eating in the common hall today. After we stop back in the infirmary to check in with Emma."

Kurt nodded and then waved his hands for Blaine to get out of his room. He needed to get changed. Quickly he pulled on a shirt and pants like Blaine had on, then his boots. He was so thankful that he'd had his emergency skin care kit in his bag with him. He used the pitcher and basin on the small table in front of his window to quickly wash his face. He needed to use what he had sparingly until he could find adequate substitutes. He may be in a different world but that was no excuse for not having proper cleansing care.

After a quick trip to see Emma, where he was told to continue to rest his throat and given more warm tea to drink, they were off to the common hall to eat.

Kurt could hear everyone before he saw them. Once he entered the large hall, he froze in shock. There were hundreds of people here! Not just people. There men and women with pointed ears! Very large people with tusk like teeth growing out of their mouths like, like...

Trolls. Elves.

Kurt glanced at Blaine; he could feel the stretch of his face and knew that his eyes were just about popping out. What if there were more? What other kind of creatures were here? Werewolves? Vampires? Kurt's mind ran rampant with the possibilities. At that moment he wished he had paid more attention to the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Blaine tugged on his arm and they got in line for food. Kurt grabbed a tray that lay out their meal. Three side dishes on the top, a boiled egg, a piece of fruit and a nice thick hunk of bread with cheese that left Kurt's mouth watering. A bowl of some sort of mashed grains was added. Maybe just today he'd eat it whatever, but tomorrow it'd be back to healthier eating. Kurt tried to see if there was any yogurt being served as he followed Blaine.

"Here, let's sit with my friends." Blaine led Kurt to a table filled with boys about his own age. "Kurt meet the Warblers." He set his food down at the head of the table, gesturing for Kurt to take the seat to his right, "Warblers, this is Kurt."

Kurt wrinkled his brow in what he hoped was a confused expression as set his food down.

Blaine laughed, "Warbler is out singing class rank."

Kurt nodded and sat on the bench next to one of the boys he sort of remembered from the other day. Danny or Doug? David maybe?

"I'll give you a rundown of the names," Blaine said. "This is David, Wes, Nick, Jeff, Trent..."

Kurt tuned out a bit. He wasn't going to remember them all at once like this. He gave a small wave and turned back to his food. The bread was just as good as it smelled.

"Now Kurtsie, has Blaine told you the rules here at Dalton?" The boy Wes asked.

Kurt shook his head.

Wes looked at him with a strange glint in his eye, "All right. Here at Dalton we strive to make this a safe environment to learn and make friends that can be very important in the coming future. We have a zero- tolerance discrimination policy. That means no racism. While trolls, humans and elves are physically different we all function with the same intellect and common interest. No one race is better than the other. There is no fighting outside of the regulation dueling guidelines and laws."

"Can you fight?" Asked David.

Kurt smiled and nodded. His self defense and sai lessons might come in handy here after all. Or practical, he thought soberingly.

"Ahem. One of the most important rules to follow here is no unapproved singing. There can be consequences."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, pursed his lips and looked sideways at them, turning his head to give them all a stare. Everyone that met his eyes looked sheepish in one way or another. Serves them right.

"Actually I haven't had a chance to tell you yet Kurt, but everyone here is being punished in one form or another for their part in your...attendance here," Blaine explained through bites of food. "Until you are healed and can tell us more, there's not much we can do to help you. And since it was our fault, we're all responsible for you. Your clothing, pocket money, schooling. It's all coming out of our parent's collective pockets. In some cases, goods that are traded or general service. While Dalton is a bit posh, if you have the talent but not the money, we can't turn you away."

Kurt nodded at this bit of news. He wondered if they'd believe him when they did get a chance to tell them where he was from.

"Enough serious talk. Let's eat!" cried Trent from the other side of the table.

Laughter filled the table and Kurt found himself slowly relaxing in the company that surrounded him. Suck in a school with what seemed like strict rules, Kurt could get used to this quickly.

After breakfast, Blaine led him to a bench under a tree in the large garden. "Let's try and make this easy. Just nod for yes and shake your head for no. Alright?"

Kurt nodded.

"Do you know where you are?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head.

"Have you ever heard of Dalton or Westerville?"

Kurt shook his head again.

"Wow, you must have come further than we thought. I guess I should fill you in." Blaine turned on the bench and began.

"For over 1000 years Dalton, situated in the middle of Westerville, as been a place of learning and training. Dalton always produces the most powerful Spell Masters in the world. All of the races send their children here to be taught. This is the safest place for them."

Kurt nodded, still a little in shock to have met actual trolls and elves. They weren't like the stories on Earth described, but it was close.

"Now is a time of, well, discontent in our lands. Weather patterns are off, crops have been failing. Tempers are on the rise. There have always been small battles with the northerners of Carmel, but they seem to be coming more often now. Now that King Matthew and Princess Evelyn have perished. It was a horrible accident involving two of our most powerful spell masters. They took out most of the royal family and the top spell masters in our land."

Kurt watched the emotions play over Blaine's face. He could tell this was all difficult for Blaine to be talking about, but Kurt could only wonder why.

"The rest of the royal families are fighting. Politely would be the way to say it. Until someone can enter the Chamber of the Stars and take up the crown and royal scepter, we are without a true leader." Blaine took a large breath, looking around to see if anyone was there and then continued, "Dalton hasn't just been teaching the children of the warring families, they've been keeping them as political prisoners. To try and keep some semblance of peace." Blaine looked down into his hands. "My father is a good man Kurt, no matter what it may seem like. He just wants the best for us all.

Kurt laid his hand on Blaine's and smiled. There wasn't more that he could do and he could see that this conversation was very hard on the boy.

"I've never really had someone that I felt I could confide in like you Kurt. It seems silly, since we only met recently, but for some reason I feel like I can trust you. I hope we can be friends."

Kurt felt himself blush under such a compliment and his heart ached. Friends? Someone wanted to be friends with him?

A man jogged towards them and Kurt hurriedly pulled his hand away, "Warbler Anderson, your father demands your presence. Your brother has returned."

Blaine's eyes had a wild look to them as he stammered to Kurt, "Please I have to go, find one of the other boys and ask them to take you to the classes today. I'm so sorry, I have to go." He was up and running before he was finished speaking, leaving Kurt sitting there alone.

Kurt hopped it wasn't anything serious, though that's exactly what it seemed like.

He was officially lost. Kurt had tried to backtrack to the common hall where they'd eaten, but somehow he'd gotten mixed up and found himself walking out into a large area which looked like it was used for weapons training and practicing. Maybe. Or maybe it led to some sort of barracks, Kurt thought as he noted men in what appeared to be armor moving gear about.

Kurt bumped into something hard and fell on his butt.

"Oh! Sorry about that little guy." The taller boy he'd bumped into held his hand out for Kurt to take it. "I'm always running into people. Sorry about that, let me help you up. Mine names Finn by the way."

Kurt hesitantly placed his hand in Finns, who then yanked him upright almost effortlessly.

"Hey are you a fairy?" Asked a boy with a mohawk to Finn's right.

Kurt's eyes went wide with the insinuation and his heart started to race. Was he going to be hurt?

"Nah, I don't think so Puck, his ears aren't pointed like yours," answered Finn for Kurt.

Fairy? Pointed ears? Oh! He was asking if he was an elf, not...his sexual preference. Kurt's pulse slowed and he brushed himself off.

"But he's got such nice skin, and tri-color eyes! Maybe he's a halfie?" Continued Puck. "You're a little rude, not answering us." He spoke to Kurt directly this time.

Kurt raised his hand to his throat and pointed to the heavy bruising he knew was still there and grimaced.

"Aw little man that looks terrible! I like your coloring, so I'll get your back next time someone's picking on you. We gotta stick together!" Puck threw an arm around Kurt.

Kurt side glanced at Puck. He wasn't an elf!

"Yeah, me too. Maybe you should come train with us a little. We'll go easy on you until you get better. I'm not real good at singing anything, but I can fight well. Puck can too." Finn said.

Kurt smiled.

"Friends?" Finn held his hand out.

Kurt clasped his wrist like he'd seen others do; Finn's hand was warm and steady. He looked up at the other guy smiled a bit awkwardly.

Puck slapped his hand down between them, "Come on, let's find our bunks. You coming? We gotta find something to call you." Puck started for a side door.

Finn looked down at Kurt watching Puck walk away, "You gonna let go? I promise he's a good guy and won't hurt you. We'll watch out for you."

Kurt smiled and quickly let go of Finn's wrist. He followed the taller boy who followed Puck back into a different area of Dalton. He just made two friends by himself. Two friends that weren't obligated to watch him like the Warblers were.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Au Klaine where Kurt is pulled into another world, Glee, where singing is pure magic. A world full of elves, trolls, dragons and a short brown haired boy named Blaine. WIP

Kurt woke and found Blaine staring at him with an amused look on his face. He rubbed the back of his head and wiped a small drop of drool off of his lips.

"You know you have to stop sleeping in class like this," Blaine said with a bit of laughter in his voice.

No he didn't, thought Kurt. So what if he was sleeping, math class was the worst here. He made a face in Blaine's direction. Honestly, he was in calculus back at McKinley and here, well the most advanced he'd seen was a bit of geometry.

For the fast few days, as the bruises on Kurt's throat changed colors and the pain and swelling dissipated, he had accompanied Blaine to the classed that the Warblers took. For the most part math was the same; a bit leaps behind Earth math. So was the science class for that matter. Although since people could sing their clothing clean, a feat that Kurt was determined to learn the moment he was allowed to sing again, maybe they could turn metal into gold. Both were classes that Kurt could write a few books on, if the same principles applied here.

Could magic and technology coexist in this world together, he wondered?

The subjects Kurt found to be most enlightening were music and their version of English class. They called it common. Because he was so far behind, Blaine had given him old work-scrolls and materials to learn the rudiments of the language. It was challenging, but Kurt was making progress at it.

Oh but music class. It was musical theory, singing and just wonderful. In a few days he'd began to love when David and Wes went over past work with the others. Yesterday an older student had come and shown them some new compositions that the boys wouldn't be allowed to practice on their own until the next time the older student was available. Kurt wondered what it'd be like with a teacher for that class.

So Kurt listened while they practiced their scales, harmonies and small simple cleaning songs.

But finally it was time.

"Ready to go see the healer?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. Since he'd gotten here he hadn't' uttered a word, though he'd caught himself starting to speak many times. At first the pain stopped him, and then the horror of having a damaged voice over whelmed his desire to correct anyone's assumptions after that. Being around some of the boys and not being able to laugh was hard. But he'd continued to drink the medicine he was given and all the tea he was able to find and hoped for the best.

One of the first things he was going to do was ask Blaine for some more clothing, particularly night clothes and undergarments.

Kurt practically skipped to the infirmary.

"Hello Kurt," greeted Emma as he walked in. The infirmary had changed a little. A large section towards the back had been sectioned off. Kurt knew it was Cooper Anderson, Blaine's older brother behind the curtains. Finn wasn't exactly the model of discretion, thought it looked like he had tried. Puck had punched Finn in the arm right after that and swore Kurt to secrecy. It had made Blaine's actions seem a bit more normal.

And though he liked Blaine, the boy was all smiles and cordial and polite. It couldn't be completely normal. Kurt didn't know what was going on, but it seemed serious.

Healer Taibar entered the room from his office, "Hello Kurt, go ahead and take a seat. Let's see that throat of yours." He gestured to a chair next to Emma's desk. Then pulled his chair around so that he was in front of Kurt.

Emma walked over with a tray in her hands and a cup of something on it.

"One more cup, just to be safe. Has the pain gone away?" Healer Taibar asked.

Kurt nodded. To be honest, the soreness in his throat had gone completely the day before. The pain on the outside of his throat as almost gone as well.

The healer motioned for Kurt to open his mouth, and when Kurt complied, stuck a small mirror into it. A crystal that shown with light was then held near his throat. "The redness is gone and it doesn't look as swollen as it has. Let's hear it."

Kurt cleared his throat, "Hello, My name is Kurt Hummel." It was raspy and a few octaves lower than usual, but the relief Kurt felt at finally being able to speak again was overwhelming. He was sure his smile was going to give him early wrinkles.

"Well, I think you can start talking again. No long speeches or singing just yet. Give it time to heal naturally. Stop talking if your throat gets sore, keep it well lubricated. Come see me if you want another dose of medicine just to be sure.

Kurt thanked the healer and bounced out the door of the infirmary. He turned to Blaine who was giving the room a lingering look and said, "Excuse me, but I'm new here. "

They both laughed.

"No really, it feels so good to be able to talk, even though I sound terrible."

Blaine smiled, "Well I'm just glad you're doing better. Now we can finally get some answers. Where are you from?"

Kurt paused. He really couldn't be the only person to ever have come from Earth, could he? The two places had so much in common. "I'm from a place called Earth," he said, because Kurt tried not to be a liar.

Blaine stopped walking, "Surely you jest." His face was serious.

Kurt turned to look at him, "No, one moment I'm..." Kurt waved his hand around, he didn't want to Blaine exactly what had been happening right before he was dragged over, "and the next moment I was here."

Blaine, paler than Kurt had ever seen the normally tan boy, shook his head slowly and started to walk, "My father will want to hear about this immediately." He gestured for Kurt to follow him.

"He lies!" Lord Anderson roared as he pounded his fist on the desk he sat behind.

Kurt stood in the well lit, richly furnished study that Lord Anderson surrounded himself with.

"He's just another poor boy who's trying to make a name and money for himself. More false hope. Get him out of my sight, I'll figure out what to do with him later. Now just go!" Lord Anderson turned to his manservant who stood next to him, holding a tray of paper out to him, completely dismissing the two boys.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm and practically drug him out of the room. The door shut before Blaine started speaking, "I don't know why you would do this to us Kurt. What a terrible thing to try." The grip got tighter.

Kurt had had enough. "How dare you, "he hissed. His voice was low and raspy but he could finally have his say and no one was going to call him a liar to his face. He yanked his arm out of Blaine's grip. "You pulled me here, against my will. My father is probably worried sick. You hurt me worse than I already was and now that I'm finally able to speak you all call me liar to my face."

Kurt drew himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at Blaine. "I don't care to be around you right now. Not even when the proof of my claims could so easily be displayed." He turned and stalked off down the corridor.

Blaine ran after him. "Kurt, just...Just don't tell anyone about this," Blaine said, whispering furiously at his back.

"Why! I'm not a liar. I won't lie for you or anyone."

"It's more complicated than you know."

Kurt stopped abruptly and turned, "Then explain it to me." He followed his arms and waited. "Or do you think I'm too stupid to understand as well as a liar?"

"I don't know. There have been pretenders before. If people found out about you right now, it could be disastrous if you were lying."

Kurt stared down into Blaine's hazel eyes and knew that the boy thought he was doing the right thing by following what his father said. Kurt pitied him in that moment for not being his own person. "This is all your fault. You and your Warblers pulled me here. I want to go home! Tell me when you can send me home and I'll happily go."

Blaine shook his head, "We don't even know how you go here Kurt, let alone how to send you back. Or where to send you. It's not something you can just play around with."

Kurt knew his face turned red, he bet it was bright red with anger right now, "Apparently you can! Figure something out before I figure something out that you may not like." Kurt looked down at Blaine again, "I don't want to be around you right now. I'm going to go talk to Finn and Puck. I will see you later." He paused mid-step, "I won't say anything for now," and walked away.

Henry bowed stiffly before leaving Lord Anderson's presence. He stopped quickly at the servant's station to deposit the correspondence before hurrying to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. And to see who else was around, he had some juicy gossip.

There weren't many people at the servant table just yet, only the new manservant Jesse. He'd just come to them from, Henry paused; he wasn't actually sure where Jesse had come from. Just that he had excellent recommendations. He thought that maybe Geeves, the head butler, had felt bad for Jesse. His arm was paralyzed and he had some scars on his body from the war. Or so he heard. One of the maids had accidentally walked in on him in the baths the first day he was hired.

Henry grabbed a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread and sat down next to him at the large table, "You'll never guess what I just heard."

"Do tell," replied Jesse, "I'm always interested to hear the inner workings of a well run place like Dalton."

Henry pushed aside his dislike for Jesse and started, "Remember the fiasco about a fortnight ago with the Warblers? Well, it looks like that strange boy that's been floating around since then claims he's from Earth."


End file.
